


loves me not

by lezz1e



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/F, Flowers, Hurt No Comfort, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-28 16:19:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11421633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lezz1e/pseuds/lezz1e
Summary: Nyma wants it work. She wants it to be true. Nyma wants this stupid, silly, simple game to tell her that Shay loves her.





	loves me not

**Author's Note:**

> this is for [vld-wlw-month](http://vld-wlw-month.tumblr.com/)!!!  
>  **day one:** flowers

Plucking repeatedly at the petals in a slightly uneven rhythm, Nyma sighs, twisting the flower between her index and her finger. She other hand moving to support her head from the future heartbreak, her eyes drooping and her lips curling into a pout.

She’s too old to be picking flowers like this. She’s too old to be looking at flowers, and hoping they will provide some insight on her romantic future.

She’s too cynical to believe that the order of flowers, could represent reciprocated feelings. She’s not stupid, she knows that it depends on the petal you start at. She even made sure that the order would support the outcome she wanted- she played the system herself, to her advantage and still, she wants it to work.

Nyma wants it work. She wants it to be true. Nyma wants this stupid, silly, simple game to tell her that Shay loves her.

Well, maybe not love. No, not love.

That was, that was strong and the thought makes Nyma’s cheeks bloom with colours that are even brighter than the colours shining from the delicate flower in her fingers.

She shakes her head and puffs out her cheeks so she doesn’t have to feel how hot they’ve become compared to the rest of her body. She can’t stop the light feeling swimming through her vines that makes her panic and makes her feel so so good at the same time and makes her feel so light and so- she can’t stop the feeling.

She’d love to say that it was annoying. Nyma would love to say that these feelings were inconveniencing- they were inconveniencing but, she strangely didn’t want them to go away, not just yet.

She wanted to feel light and warm and soft. It was strange.

Her fingers keep plucking, keep pulling, keep grabbing at the petals. Her fist keeps clenching at the fragile flower, as if she could persuade it to do her biding.

She did the required order.

What is she so worried about?

* * *

 

She loves me. She loves me not.

She loves me. She loves me not.

She doesn’t even know who I am.

* * *

 

Her lips twist together painfully at the thought, her long nails piercing through the stems of the flower, making some liquid from the plant seep onto her fingers.

“Hmm! Sure! You’re- You’re really cute and! Yeah! I’d love to date you!” The Shay residing in her head says excitedly, making Nyma’s hands clutch together in attempt to defend herself from the wave of love that was sweeping through her body. Her heart getting lighter and lighter as the shay in her head smiled and tilted her head slightly, the lumps and bumps on her face moving upwards to show her joy.

Nyma sighs, thinking of Shay’s smile again. The smile that clouds her head and drowns the things she doesn’t want to think about anymore. That smile that occupies her thoughts when there’s nothing to do- when there’s everything to do. It’s always there warming her heart, warming the heart she’d succeeded in making everyone believe was made from metal.

Or maybe it was made of rock. Like Shay was, because, wow did she feel as if she belonged to Shay.

Wow, did she want to belong to Shay.

“She wouldn’t even say that. I’m not cute. I’m hot,” Nyma groans, using one of her hands to scrub against the side of her face before laying back onto the grass.

This was an awful idea. This was the worst idea Nyma had ever had.

For Nyma, that was hard to admit. Since, she prided herself in her plans and her routines, and even if she didn’t- Nyma disliked being wrong. She hated being wrong in any possible way.

Even though she constantly battled with her mind, trying to prove to herself that she did things correctly, that the plans she made worked and that her routines were needed and necessary. Even though her mind constantly battled her into thinking that every single thing she did was wrong. That everything she did was incorrect. That it wasn’t the way it should be, that it wasn’t right.

It was strange, the change of intensity that these thoughts had over her. She’s always had them, they’ve plagued her since she could remember and yet- they got worse when her and Rolo allied with Voltron. It didn’t make any sense.

She was doing something good. They were doing something good. They were going against the Galra Empire, an empire that had forced her and Rolo to go into crime.

They’d done something good, so why does she feel this way? Why does she feel so useless? So, incorrect.

She theories that it’s because being a hero is harder than being a villain. If she could even call her and Rolo villains, they were more like inconveniences.

People’s lives rely on her now. She has lives balancing on her fingertips, threatening to fall to the ground if she moved an inch in the wrong direction.

Nyma didn’t have to worry about this before. All she had ever had to acre for was herself and Rolo, but now, suddenly, the whole universe is resting on her shoulders: her contribution to the paladins of Voltron. Her shoulders that have never felt anything heroic in all of her days.

The whole universe is resting on her, she who wanted to give into the Galra Empire, and would have if the paladins hadn’t have regained the blue lion.

What could Shay ever see in that?

Shay was kind and beautiful. She truly had a heart of pure gold. Every inch of her was covered in heroics and a strong sense of morals that Nyma has never had.

Shay was brave, wasn’t afraid to stand up to people, to fight for what she wanted- to fight for what was right.

Nyma didn’t even fight for what she wanted. That was evident by the way she diverted any opportunity to confess to Shay. It was even evident in the way that she didn’t stop Lance from using her nail polish.

Her brain was right this time. This wasn’t meant to be. Someone like Shay, isn’t meant to be with her.

Though, to be fair, she could have spoken to anyone to know that.

She takes a deep breath, letting it settle in her stomach. Trying to use the excess air to push down the large range of emotions she was feeling. Deeming herself a tiny bit calmer, she huffed it back out, letting the feelings sizzle back into the pits of her stomach.

In some ways, she misses her old life. She doesn’t miss the crime, tricking people or having to run at any given moment. But she does miss the rush, the plans she structured in her mind and the routines.

They made her feel important, and so they should, Rolo was only good at one thing and that was machinery. Nyma was the mastermind, no matter how shifty Rolo seemed.

She didn’t plan things with team Voltron. She didn’t have her routines (or most of them anyway) with team Voltron. She didn’t have the things that made her strong and badass. She didn’t have the control that she strived for, it was messing her up.

Allura was the leader. She was smart and always had some kind of plan that the paladins would elaborate on and make perfect. Even if Nyma wanted to join in on that it wouldn’t be needed and her slightly sneaky plans wouldn’t have been appreciated (even though they were immaculate).

She shakes her head slightly, pulling her thoughts out of the garbage and pushing it back into Gay Pining.

She was Nyma, she was smart and pretty and hot and gay, she shouldn’t be worrying about this sort of thing. What combination of things over than smart, pretty, hot and gay could be any better, anyway?

Slowly, she brings the flower to her face with a huff. Looking at the small number of petals still attached to the flower, her lips scrunch together before trying to blow the petals off of the flower.

She didn’t want to play that game anymore. She’d rigged it so she would win.

Her mind may be critical and ugly but, this time it was right. Shay wasn’t right for her, even when doing something as pure as playing a silly crush game Nyma had to rig it so she would win. She doesn’t think Shay would do that.

Nyma doesn’t think she’s right for team Voltron either. She’s not cut out for heroics but, she’s not going to give up on being good (no matter how wired into tricks her brain is).

But she is going to give up on Shay. She’s going to give up on Shay before she’s even tried. It’s going to hurt and she’s going to hate every single second of it.

Clouds above her jumble together, covering the sun that had recently been glowing across her skin, making the flower cradled between her fingers seem duller. The middle of the flower a greyish yellow while the stray petals were close to being picked up by the breeze (if they hadn’t already been blown away by Nyma).

She looks to the flower one more time before tossing it far away. Her hands joining together at her chest.

She wonders if the Shay fragmented in her head is different to the real one and decides it doesn’t matter. She isn’t confessing, and she’s never going to find out if the bad girl/sweet girl trope works in real life.

“Hey Nyma! You wanted to speak to me, right?” Shay says, settling down next to Nyma, making Nyma’s heart buzz in her chest.

It’d be lovely to explore the bad girl/sweet girl trope. It’d be lovely if Nyma wasn’t so bad and Shay wasn’t so good.


End file.
